‘Th-thank you, s-sir,’ she said shakily, still too embarrassed to look him in the eye.
‘Better get your head under the hot water,’ he instructed, and she immediately dipped her head back, the hot water around her head seeming to draw the last of the chill from her.
A moment later, lifting her head, she opened her eyes and finally blinked an apologetic peek up at him through the rivulets of water running down her face. His expression was stern, but his eyes were filled with genuine worry.
‘At least you’ve got some colour back in your cheeks,’ he said. ‘All right, get out of the tub now. I’ll dry you off quickly, then into bed with you right away.’
She stood up without any complaint or any futile attempt to justify her irresponsible behaviour. Lord Michael gave her a towel for her hair, and as she wrapped it around her head he rubbed her with another. As soon as she was dry he hurried her back into the bedroom, and helped her into her long warm nightgown.
‘Better dry your hair thoroughly by the fire,’ he told her. ‘We don’t want it to be damp in bed.’
Feeling a lot better and comfortably warmed through to the core again, she gracefully dropped to her knees by the hearth and began to towel her head vigorously, interrupting herself with a few sharp coughs and a sizable sneeze. Lord Michael at last took a deep breath and sat in the chair by her side, removing his wet shoes and socks, when there was a light knock at the door.
It was Grace, and the tray she was carrying contained not just a pot of tea and cups for them both, but bread and honey and some cakes.
‘I thought Miss Elizabeth might like a little something to eat,’ she said shyly.
‘Excellent,’ Lord Michael said, smiling appreciatively, ‘thank you, Grace, thank you for your help.’
‘Can I get anything else for you, sir?’ the girl volunteered, blushing beneath his evident appreciation.
‘There’s a very wet raincoat in the bathroom,’ he said. ‘Please remove it.’
‘Yes, sir.’ She hurried into the bathroom and picked up the dripping coat, and wrapped it in a towel to carry it out. ‘Can I do anything else for you, sir?’ she asked, as she walked back into the bedroom.
‘No, thank you, that will be all.’
‘Thank you, sir,’ she bobbed endearingly again. ‘If you need me, I’ll be in the kitchen.’
She left, and Lord Michael gazed down at the disobedient young lady kneeling before him. Reaching forward he pulled the soggy towel from her hands. Her head was bowed, and the fire’s light flickered off her red highlights. He touched her hair. It was still slightly damp, but no longer wet.
‘Elizabeth,’ the feel of his hand on her hair touched her deeply, and she felt the tears well up, ‘look at me, Elizabeth.’
With wide eyes she met his gaze. ‘Lord Michael,’ she whispered meekly, ‘I’m so terribly sorry.’
‘Yes, I’m sure you are,’ he said, and the tears began to meander down her cheeks. ‘But the most important thing is you made it back safely.’
‘Will you ever forgive me?’
‘Of course, but you deliberately disobeyed me, and you will therefore be punished.’
She gulped. Of that she’d had no doubt, and punished severely she was sure. Not that she deserved less, she recognised that, which is something she would not have done only a little time before.
‘Take your hairbrush and get into bed,’ he went on. ‘You can brush your hair while you drink your tea.’
‘Yes, sir.’ She reached out and he embraced her, hugging her tightly, mostly from relief that she was indoors, dry and safe. She sniffled and coughed again, and he knew she was going to end up with a nasty cold.
‘Come on, you bad girl, under the covers.’ He helped her up and into bed, and she shivered a little again and sneezed. ‘Where do you keep your hankies?’ he asked.
‘In the top drawer of my dresser,’ she told him, and he quickly found them, and gathered her hairbrush as well. He handed the items to her and she gratefully took them, immediately blowing her nose then bursting into another fit of coughing.
‘Oh dear,’ she said nasally, the tip of her nose getting redder and redder, ‘I’m afraid I’m not feeling well at all.’
‘No, I’m sure you’re not,’ he said sagely. ‘We’ll get some hot tea into you, that will help a little.’
He went to the tray and poured them both a cup, pleased to see it was still steaming, and put some cakes on a plate.
‘Here you are,’ he said, placing the cup and saucer on her bedside table, along with the plate of food. She picked it up and sipped. It was heaven. He sat on the edge of the bed, looking sternly at her.
‘Now then, young lady, I’m not interested in any excuses,’ he said. ‘You were downright disobedient and just determined to have your own way, weren’t you, Elizabeth?’
‘Yes, sir,’ she replied quietly, sniffling again.
‘You’re to stay in bed for the rest of the day. I’ll have Grace bring you lunch on a tray, and then you are to sleep this afternoon. If you’re a good girl I’ll come up and have dinner with you.’
‘Yes, sir,’ she said sheepishly. ‘Thank you, sir.’
‘If you need anything just pull the cord. Otherwise, under no circumstances do I want to see you up and out of this bed.’ He patted the mattress beside her hip. ‘Is that clear?’
‘Yes, sir,’ she repeated, feeling well and truly admonished.
‘And rest assured, when you’re better your bottom will be redder than your nose is now, and I’ll use this hairbrush to make it so. However, that won’t be your only punishment, so think about that as you lay here recuperating.’
‘Yes, sir,’ she said, having no doubt whatsoever that he meant what he said.
‘Good. Now I’m going to change out of these damp clothes and get back to work. As soon as you’ve finished brushing your hair I want you to get some rest.’
‘Y-yes, sir,’ she stammered, ‘and thank you, sir.’
Lord Michael nodded, then without another word he picked up his shoes and socks and left the warm bedroom.
And Elizabeth did indeed come down with a very heavy cold, and there were further complications caused by the foul weather; it caused havoc with the roads.
Her father sent word to Lord Michael, asking if he could stay on for the week. Getting back to the country might be tricky, and returning to London might prove equally so for him. Lord Michael, still concerned about Elizabeth’s convalescing was more than pleased to do so. There was no business so urgently in need of his attention that he couldn’t stay on a little longer.
After several days of bed and lots of good food and constant attention, Elizabeth woke up on the third morning feeling almost back to her old self. Lord Michael insisted on another twenty-four hours of rest, and as she had no intention of displeasing him again she did not protest, even though she was frightfully bored.
On the fourth day she woke up with a clear head, no sniffles, and her throat was no longer sore. She smiled happily as Grace pulled open the drapes and stoked the fire. She was better, but the weather had not improved at all. It was teeming with rain for the fourth day in a row.
As she sat up in bed, stretching, there was a knock on the bedroom door. ‘Are you decent?’ Lord Michael asked from out on the landing.
‘Yes, decent and much better,’ she called back, hurriedly running her fingers through her hair.
He entered and saw Elizabeth sitting up, smiling happily, her cheeks rosy with health, not fever. ‘Excellent,’ he said. ‘You look much better, Elizabeth. The additional day was just what you needed to completely see off your nasty cold.’
‘You were right, as usual, sir. I feel as bright as a button.’
‘She does look the picture of health, sir,’ said Grace, clearly as pleased as anyone that her mistress was no longer ill.
‘Well, as you can see, it’s still awful outside,’ he went on, ‘so when you’re up and about I’ll see you in the sitting room.’
&nb
sp; ‘Wonderful,’ she beamed, delighted she was finally going to be out of her sickbed.
She took her time getting ready, enjoying a long soak in the bath, then chose something particularly pretty to wear and pinned her hair up. Pleased with her appearance, she trotted down the stairs to the sitting room.
He was waiting for her, sitting on the sofa reading a book. ‘Well, there she is, and doesn’t she look lovely?’ he said, looking up at her as she entered.
She blushed a little. ‘Thank you, sir.’
‘Come, sit,’ he said, patting the cushion next to him, and she perched elegantly on its front edge as he held her hand. ‘What would you like to do on your first day up and about?’ he asked. ‘Not that we can leave the house, of course; damned foul weather.’
So after a tasty luncheon they returned to the sitting room and spent the afternoon enjoying each other’s company, playing cards and sharing stories about recent events.
However, as the day passed Elizabeth could not help but wonder when the inevitable would happen – when she would have to pay the price for her gross disobedience of the other day.
Her feelings of trepidation aside, the pleasurable hours skipped by quickly and soon they were chatting amiably over dinner, so much so that she began to wonder against hope that he had totally forgiven her, but just as she dared to believe that her worries were over he lowered the boom.
She had laid her knife and fork neatly together on her empty dinner plate, when he looked across the table and holding up his glass of red wine, said quietly, ‘Elizabeth, take a good look at the wine in this glass. Do you see what a pretty red it is?’
‘Um, yes sir,’ she said carefully, sensing what was about to come.
‘Well, that’s close to the colour your beautiful bottom is going to be in about half an hour.’
She gulped; his tone was resolute and very stern.
‘There will be no dessert for you this evening. Instead you will take yourself up to your bedroom, lay out five scarves, then take off all your clothes and lay yourself facedown on your bed. Remember, Elizabeth, I want you completely naked. I’ll be up shortly, when I have enjoyed my dessert.’
She felt her face flush. She wanted to throw herself on the floor in front of him, beg him to let her off, but she knew it would not only be useless, he would consider her impudent and just add to her punishment quota.
Besides that her conscience was bothering her, and it was only after she had paid for her disobedience that she would be free of her guilt. That was one of the things he had quickly taught her, and taught her well. Bowing her head she stood up and humbly whispered, ‘Yes, sir.’
She walked up the stairs to her bedroom, gathered the scarves he had ordered, laid them on the bed, and got undressed. When naked she then laid on the mattress to wait, knowing it might be five minutes, or ten, or twenty or more.
Lord Michael enjoyed a leisurely dessert; apple sponge cake with ice cream, and then enjoyed a nice cup of coffee. He knew Elizabeth would be waiting as he had ordered, full of trepidation, as she should be. He wanted her to think about just how headstrong and foolhardy she had been, and when well fed and ready he stood up and started up to her room. When he reached her door he pushed it open and entered quietly, noticing her tense slightly as she heard a slight sound, but she did not get up or speak or look in his direction. He closed the door, and then stood for a moment taking in the breathtaking vision before him.
The fire was the room’s only light, and her lovely body was bathed in its golden glow. Her soft skin looked almost translucent, and her bottom cheeks rose provocatively.
Lord Michael set to work, and the first thing he did was slide some pillows under her stomach, raising her bottom perfectly. Then he tied her wrists and ankles to the four posts of the bed, and during the entire process Elizabeth did not speak, except to utter an uncertain whimper or two. Lastly came the darkest scarf of the selection she’d gathered for him, which he used to blindfold her.
He found the hairbrush on her dresser, and picking it up he slapped it down into his palm, seeing her flinch enticingly. Then sitting beside her on the bed he ran the smooth wooden back of the brush across the creamy contours of her elevated buttocks. A slight tremble ran through her delicious form.
‘Are you ready for your punishment, Elizabeth?’ he asked.
‘Yes…’ she whispered, ‘yes sir, I think so, sir.’
‘You know you deserve to be punished, don’t you?’
‘Yes sir, I do know that.’ Her sweet voice was partly muffled by the bedspread.
‘You are well aware of what you did wrong, so I won’t waste any time reminding you of your disobedience. I am going to paddle you with your hairbrush, and you are going thank me for it afterwards, aren’t you, Elizabeth?’
‘Yes, sir,’ she answered, her voice quavering.
‘So, are you ready?’
‘Yes, sir,’ she quaked, gritting her teeth.
He raised the brush in the air, and with a practiced flick of his wrist brought it down on her right cheek, making her yelp as the flat wood burned her skin with a searing sting.
He repeated the action, and as he found his rhythm he watched with satisfaction as her porcelain-white flesh turned a gratifying crimson.
She clenched her teeth through the scorching smacks, determined to take her spanking with fortitude. She had brought it on herself, she knew, and deserved every stinging slap.
By the time he finished her bottom was bright red, radiating heat. He brushed his fingers between her legs. She was wet, and despite her smarting posterior she gasped with pleasure.
‘You like that, don’t you, Elizabeth?’ he said.
‘Oh, yes sir,’ she breathed. ‘I do like that…’
‘It makes you forget about your stinging bottom, doesn’t it, Elizabeth?’
‘Yes, sir, it does help me forget a little.’
He continued to rub, his fingers moving against her clit, and she wriggled in response. He slid his thumb into her hot recesses, and she pushed back against him.
‘Now then, Elizabeth, next time I tell you to do or not to do something, you will obey me, isn’t that so?’
‘Yes sir,’ she replied huskily, ‘in future I will always obey you, sir.’
His fingers kept massaging her. ‘And you will always remember this evening, won’t you?’
‘Yes sir.’ Her voice became more dreamy and her breathing more ragged.
‘Good, and now I doubt you’ll ride your horse comfortably for several days.’
‘Yes sir, I’m sure you’re right,’ she agreed, and then suddenly caught her breath, signalling the onset of her moment. But he pulled his fingers away and she tensed, groaning in frustration.
‘What’s the matter, my dear?’ he goaded, running the tips of his fingers across her inner thigh. She wriggled, her blotchy red bottom moving salaciously before him.
‘Oh sir, I – uh – I…’
‘You were going to orgasm, weren’t you?’
‘Yes, sir…’
‘And do you honestly think you deserve such pleasure, after being so poorly behaved?’
She moaned into the bedspread, then panted, ‘No sir, you’re right, I don’t deserve such pleasure after being so poorly behaved.’
‘That would be correct,’ he agreed, slipping his fingers back between her legs, rubbing again, his practiced hand causing her to writhe in her bonds, craving more, then as soon as he knew she was at the edge again he pulled his hand away once more.
‘Oh, sir…’ she wailed in disappointment, ‘please don’t be so cruel to me.’
‘Elizabeth, I told you; you were not just going to be spanked,’ he said calmly. ‘You need to learn patience. It was lack of patience, in addition to your general wilfulness, that caused you to disobey me in the first place. Isn’t that right?’
Her pussy was desperate for attention, her bottom sore and burning, but she was forced to pay attention to his words. Again he was right, the truth was on that
fateful morning her impatience and petulance had gotten the better of her and she’d behaved poorly. ‘Yes, sir,’ she snivelled, ‘that is right.’
‘Good girl. Now you can just lay there and consider these things that you acknowledge for a while.’
‘Of course, sir.’
Lord Michael moved to the chair by the fireplace and closed his eyes. A little after-dinner nap would be nice, and Elizabeth needed time to feel the heat of his discipline and ponder her waywardness. He felt a little sorry for her, for he had paddled her with severity, and she was now bound, blindfolded, wet, and aching for her orgasm, but she was in need of such discipline. Not only had she been disobedient, but the consequences of her disobedience had genuinely worried him.
He was not sure how much time had passed, but he suddenly woke with a start. He could not have been dozing for very long, he reasoned, because the fire looked much as it had when he nodded off.
He stood up, looking over at the bed. Elizabeth’s mouth-watering bottom, still raised by the pillows, was very red and he could see her glistening pussy lips peeping from between her thighs, and the sight was naturally extremely inviting.
He stripped off quickly and she gasped as he knelt on the bed, between her parted legs, and lay across her back. His member was erect and ready, and he sandwiched his hands between her and the mattress, grasping her breasts. His fingers toyed with her nipples and she moaned, wriggling beneath him. He nuzzled her neck, just beneath her ear.
‘Hello, Elizabeth,’ he whispered. ‘Have you learned your lesson yet?’
‘Yes, sir,’ she responded huskily. ‘I have, I promise.’
‘Do you deserve to be pleasured?’
‘Only if you think so, sir.’
He kissed her neck and then knelt up between the triangle of her taut and shapely thighs, her bottom and sex raised by the pillows to the perfect level for his aims, his erection jutting powerfully from his shadowy groin. His fingers found her moist lips, spread them apart, and again she gasped and then moaned as his cock slid inside her. Then without hesitation he began to fuck her vigorously.
She cried out, muffling her pleasure by clamping her teeth to the bedcover, wanting to raise herself, to move against him, but her bonds held her tight. All she could do was accept him, but the restraint seemed to accelerate the onset of her orgasm and it only took a few minutes before she felt her moment arrive.
Elizabeth's Education (Forbidden Lust) Page 8